


1-900

by AdamantSteve



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AU, M/M, Open ended, Phone Sex, sexline worker Phil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-08
Updated: 2014-03-08
Packaged: 2018-01-14 23:53:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1283425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdamantSteve/pseuds/AdamantSteve
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint can't sleep - he calls a sex line. Phil is the operator.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1-900

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know. This is unbetaed.

 

 

 

“Tell me about yourself, Clint,” the guy on the line says, and he doesn’t sound like he should have a name as innocuous as a ‘Phil’. Clint wants to laugh and say so, but the man’s voice is so soft and warm he can already feel himself letting go. He wants to do whatever this voice tells him to.

 

“I work for the government,” Clint says, and it’s kind of true. Technically, anyway. It gets him the kind of response he wanted: Phil saying,

“Sounds like you need to unwind.” 

 

It’s not a question, but Clint agrees anyway. He rubs a hand over his shoulder, cause he knows where this is gonna go, most likely, but he feels kinda…. rude touching himself yet. 

 

“I’ll bet you have knots in your muscles, hmm?” Phil asks. “Where are you, Clint?” 

 

“In bed,” Clint replies, and it’s the truth. Phil’s voice is so warm and gentle, it doesn’t feel like he called a sex line. “Where are you?” 

Phil chuckles, and Clint silently curses himself. He wants Phil to think that Clint’s above this, whatever it is. 

“I’m at home, sitting by my fireplace, drinking a nice scotch.” There’s the sound of ice clinking in a glass, and Clint has an image in his head already. “Talking to you.” 

Clint’s not hard yet, dick soft in his hand, but he squeezes himself through the underwear he wore to bed a few hours ago. Perhaps if he can get off he’ll be able to go to sleep. 

 

“What do you look like?” Clint asks.

Phil takes a breath and Clint imagines him studying the ice in his glass, ruminating over his answer. 

“I’m a little under six foot, Older than you I think, I have blue eyes, I work out a little. I have short brown hair. And I’d very much like to take care of you, Clint.” 

“Take care of me?” 

“It’s late, and it’s your first call. You sound a little sleepy. I’m betting you called because you can’t sleep, am I right?” 

 

Clint laughs. “You’re right,” he concedes. “Tell me how you’d take care of me?” 

“Well,” Phil says. “I’d slide into bed beside you, and I’d kiss your neck softly, kiss down to your shoulders and see if I can’t make them feel a little better with my hands, maybe some oil. Then I’d roll you onto your back, kiss my way down to your cock,” 

Clint inhales when Phil says ‘cock’, in his proper voice with his unplaceable accent. 

“You like that idea?” Phil asks, and he sounds amused. It makes Clint feel like it’s his first time or something.

“Not bad,” he replies. “Then what?” 

“I’d take your dick into my mouth and suck you. Slowly at first but I’d let you put your hands in my hair, guide me as you fuck my mouth.” 

“You good at sucking cock?” Clint asks, pushing his boxers down and getting a hand around the warm flesh of his dick.

“I’m betting you have a nice one,” Phil says, and it’s such a line, but it works, and Clint feels special nonetheless. 

“Bet you have a beauty. I want to have my lips around it, my tongue.”

“What about you?” Clint asks. “What’d you be doing?” 

 

“I’d have my hand wrapped around myself, trying not to come before I have my cock inside of you, but it’d be hard, since I love sucking cock so much, and yours just tastes so good.” 

“Your cock inside me, huh?” Clint says, aiming for nonchalance but probably failing. He’s halfway to coming already. He kind of wants Phil to tell him just what he’d have Clint do, demand things from him, make Clint promise things. But he doesn’t want to have to say so out loud.

 

“You can fuck me if you want to, but I think you’d prefer it the other way around, Clint. Am I right?” 

Clint groans and nods, adding an ‘uh huh’. 

“I thought so. It’s been a while since you had anyone really give you what you wanted, isn’t it? A while since someone laid you out and gave it to you properly.” 

Clint cradles the phone between his cheek and his shoulder so he can reach down with the other hand to cup his balls, massage them a little. Phil sounds further away when he speaks again. 

“Still with me, Clint?” 

“Yeah,” Clint says, licking his thumb before rubbing it over the head of his cock. “Still here. Tell me what you’d do to me, how you’d give it to me.” 

 

“I’d take my time,” Phil says, a smile in his voice. “Take my time as I lick you open, get you good and wet before I slip my fingers into you.”

“Don’t need fingers,” Clint cuts in; he doesn’t want the preamble. “All ready for you.” 

“Oh, I like that. Like a boy who gets himself prepared.” 

Clint whines at being called _a boy_ , but he’s fucking into one hand as he searches for lube with the other. Phil gets it. In his scrambling, the phone drops to the mattress with a thud, and Clint cuts off a curse as he lets his cock go. 

 

“Sorry,” he says, feeling light headed as he sits up enough to actually find the lube lost amongst the pillows. “Dropped my phone.” 

“Put me on speaker,” Phil instructs, and Clint just does it unquestioningly, placing it beside him as he scoots back down the bed, kicking off his underpants as he goes.

 

“Can you hear me?” 

“Yeah,” Clint says. “Um. I have lube.” 

“Oh? What are you planning on doing with your lube, Clint?” 

 

“Whatever you tell me to, Phil.” 

Clint can feel himself blushing over the words, and they’re whispers when they come out, but he’s rewarded with a smooth, approving ‘hmm’.

 

“I think you should finger yourself,” Phil says. “Like you’re getting yourself ready for me.” 

Clint pulls both legs up and runs lube-slicked fingers over his hole. It really has been a while, he thinks, pressing in gently with the tip of one digit. 

 

“Tight,” Clint says, as much for something to say. ‘I’m here, don’t go’, he wants to say. 

“Not for long,” says Phil. “I’ll bet you open up beautifully when you want to, don’t you?” 

Clint drops his head back into the pillows and huffs. “You have a sexy voice.” 

“Thankyou,” Phil says, amused. “But I like your voice. I like your accent a lot.” 

Normally anytime someone brings up Clint’s faint, countryish accent, he pouts about it, but Phil saying he likes it makes him happy, like he’s doing something right. 

 

“Tell me what you’d do, when you come home to find me all open and ready.” 

“I’d check you first - I’m big, and I can tell you’re eager. Have to make sure it doesn’t hurt when I finally do get my dick inside you. You take it so good, don’t you? I’ll bet you’re practically made for it. Need it, even.”

“Yeah,” Clint says, two fingers inside now, opening himself up for a cock he’s never gonna see let alone feel. “Need it.” 

“I’d hold your hips so I can go slow, even if you want it fast. I’d take my time, fuck you _thoroughly_.” 

Clint straight up whimpers at that, and the hand he’s taken to wrapping around the base of his dick becomes a fist that he can’t help but fuck into as the other hand fucks into him. 

“Jesus, Phil.” 

“You like that? You like me giving you everything you need? Giving you my cock so you can be filled up with it? Letting you fuck yourself on my dick til you’re so tired I have to take over?” 

“Yeah,” Clint says, and he’s not open enough for anything but the fingers he has inside him already, but they feel good fucking into him anyway. He’s gonna come like this, it feels like a tsunami in its inevitable hugeness, undeniably on the horizon. 

“And you’ll tell me when to come, right?” He asks. 

“Are you close?” Phil asks, and he doesn’t even sound phased, which should make Clint _out_ of the moment, cause this is Phil’s job, his whole job is to make other people come, but it just turns Clint on more to know he’s this ruined over the dude’s voice when the man himself is barely affected.

“Yeah, yeah I’m close,” Clint grits out.

 

“I’ll let you come when my cock’s inside you, when you’ve been working yourself into a frenzy over it, begging to come. I’ll lean over and make you look me in the eyes when I let you, my hand wrapped around you and my cock buried in your ass. I’ll whisper it against your lips and you’ll be looking at me when you come for me.”

 

“Please.” 

 

“What do you want, Clint?” 

“Please. Lemme come. I’m gonna-“

“Do it,” Phil says, voice maybe a little rough, maybe. “You can come.” 

 

“Fuu-hhhuuu” Clint grits out as he comes, back spasming as he stretches and collapses back in on himself, bones clicking, bedsprings protesting. Come splatters over his belly and down his hand as he works himself through it, eking out last drop after last drop. 

 

Clint thinks maybe he’s imagining it in his post-orgasm ear-ringing, but he’s sure he hears a soft moan come from Phil. 

 

Neither hand is fit for picking up the phone, so Clint, panting, rolls to one side and looks at it.

 

“I came,” he says on a laugh. “Fuck.” 

“Me too,” Phil says, and Clint doesn’t even know the guy, but he believes him. Why not? 

“Good,” he replies, mouth in a lazy, sated grin. 

 

It’s sort of awkward after that, cause if there was another person there, Clint’d be well into post-sex clean up/cuddling/falling asleep right now, but, well. There’s just his phone. 

 

“Are you alright?” Phil asks. Clint’s kind of imagining him fussing. Imagining them bumping into each other as they both use the bathroom. Goddammit. 

“I’m good. Kinda missing the post-sex snuggle, I guess.” 

“I bet you’re a good cuddler,” Phil says. 

Clint wants to ask this guy out, have him come over and fall asleep together, do all that shit they just talked about together. 

This was a bad idea. 

 

“I should go,” Clint says. “This was good, though. Uh, thank you.” 

 

A rueful laugh comes down the line. “You’re very welcome,” Phil says. “Any time.” 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
